


The Color Yellow

by thatdragonchic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski in Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mentions of Hale Pack - Freeform, Mentions of Scott McCall - Freeform, Past Lives, stiles finds some old pictures of Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: And Derek Hale really just hopes that he can make Stiles stay, because everything he loves leaves. But Stiles feels so permanently engraved, so how could this be anything but meant to be?(eventually this is getting a part 2! Just a small fic about Stiles finding an old picture of Derek)





	The Color Yellow

**Author's Note:**

> for my darling jo <3 just a little thing to get me started I guess   
> I hope all of my readers enjoy, please don't forget to leave kudos and a comment! I always appreciate anything you guys have to say  
> much love  
> <3   
> AME

Gentle lighting found its way into the loft, for once exuding peace and serenity than unnerving violence. Stiles, as always, was moving about, and there was no reason to stop him. He was just scanning the walls, mostly dull and empty, and finding what few pictures were left of the Hale family, proudly sat on the TV stand, and the small cabinet near the back of the room. Derek is on the couch, reading some dreamy french novel, only looking up when the movement stops. He looks up, as if checking to see that Stiles was, in fact, okay. 

And of course he was okay. He was just standing still, holding a picture in his hands, eyes soft in admiration. “Is this you, when you were younger?” he asks, looking up with this sweet hope in his eyes, and Derek doesn’t even really know what picture Stiles is holding, but he doesn’t really want to say no, because Stiles looks so fond- he really, secretly, hopes that it wasn’t a picture of his brother. 

“Let me see,” Derek says, in a gentle and forgiving tone. Stiles walks over lethargically, leaning against the back of the couch to show Derek, in a yellow tshirt and sunglasses, holding a basketball. Derek’s lips just barely quirk into a smile, his cheeks turning a vivid pink. 

“It  _ is  _ you. You were so cute, and look at your pudgy cheeks,” Stiles says in the most adoring tone, voice getting a bit higher. “Where did all that pudge go in two years?”

Derek shrugs, crossing his arms. “Oh please… that’s not even a good picture of me.”

“Are you kidding me? This is officially in my top ten of best pictures of Derek, considering all the ones I myself have taken. I think this one tops the one of you reading at the diner we went to that one time.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Is yellow your favorite color? I can’t believe I’ve been dating you for three months and I don’t know your favorite color. It’s yellow isn’t it? Who knew the sourwolf loved  _ yellow  _ so much, and would look absolutely amazing in yellow.”

Derek once again finds no heart in saying no to Stiles. He doesn’t particularly favor any color, especially any color over black, but Stiles seems so excited over the prospect that Derek could possibly love the color yellow, that he himself is convinced that he absolutely adores yellow. That yellow is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, other than Stiles Stilinski’s existence of course.

“You caught me,” he whispers, tilting his head up to meet whiskey eyes, and Stiles smiles so wide it physically hurts Derek’s heart. His affection was copious, and the dosage was lethal. If you told Derek 3 years ago at 16 that he would fall in love all over again, even with somebody as obnoxious, as clumsy, as loud as Stiles, and that every flaw was no fatality, that he was equally just as sweet, and endearing, and full of love, Derek probably would’ve laughed. Derek probably would’ve said they’re a liar, that love never lasts. Even now, Derek is desperately afraid that once this moment fades, Stiles will too. The only remenant of him will be this memory of Stiles clutching this picture as if it were a holy grail, and nothing else to go by, even the ghosts of his warmth on the bed would fade. 

But Stiles closes the small gap between them, placing a shy, almost hesitant kiss to his lips, and Derek can only reciprocate. “You should wear yellow more often…”

“Lost it all in the fire. Thought maybe I looked better in black.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I think you’re wrong… actually. Maybe we can go thrifting or something, find a shirt just like it.”

Derek nods, not sure what to say. And he really hopes that he doesn’t lose Stiles as quickly as he gained him. There was something about Stiles that felt too comfortable, too permanent. Maybe he shouldn’t get his hopes up too high. Nothing lasts forever after all, Derek has learned that the hard way too many times.

“Where would we find a thrift store?”

“Well, gosh I totally forgot that thrift stores are completely imaginative, omen like structures that only appear when God himself has decided you have reached your capacity of life and now must descend into an alternate universe.”

“I just meant there aren’t really any in Beacon Hills.”

“Believe it or not there’s a whole lot of places outside of Beacon Hills.”

“I’ve been to some of those places.”

“Maybe we should go some time… just us together.”

“Maybe… but right now, Beacon Hills is good.”

“Or… we can go to the county over for a day and go thrift shopping.”

“We’re never going to find that shirt.”

“You never know, God has a way with things.”

“You really have a strong belief in God today.”

“I was alluding back to my original statement.”

“Of omen like trascience into alternate dimensions?”

“Yes, that one.”

“I don’t know if I want to die for a tshirt, Stiles.”

“Well… nobody said we had to die. We just have to sacrifice our time here on human earth for a while, and then you know, find our way back and hide from the government.”

“Well, that’s not new for werewolves. All we do is hide from government of any sort.”

“I’m quite new to it, so you’ll have to teach me the ropes. I mean, I’ve never had to hide anything from the government, especially not discovering a thrift shop.”

“So… you must have like a special power than. Because you can see the thrift shops, like any time you want.”

Stiles laughs, kissing him again before going to put the picture back. “It’s a special talent.”

“Spooky.”

“Befitting for somebody bewitched.”

Stiles unceremoniously tosses himself on the couch beside Derek, finding his place under Derek’s arm, and it was natural to just hold him. “No Telenovelas tonight please.”

“As long as what you put on is not The Office.”

“Fair.”

Derek kisses his temple and Stiles just seems to melt. “Hey… if you have any more pictures of you and your family… and you ever want to share them, I’d love to see them.”

Derek seems briefly surprised. Nobody had ever asked him to open up about his family, not his new pack, not Peter, not Scott. Stiles was the only one, and he knew that it took a lot of restraint to not just blurt out everything that came to mind, and Derek finds that this must be the most carefully crafted thing Stiles had ever done, because for the past year, Stiles had held in every question about Derek, about his life, about his family. Even in the summer as they looked for Erica and Boyd, Stiles never asked. Until now, on the couch, when they were totally alone, and everything was soft and accepting and welcoming. Where Stiles was warm, and Derek was underdressed in pajamas. 

“I wouldn’t mind that… I wouldn’t mind showing you,” Derek whispers.

“And I wouldn’t mind showing you pictures of my mom…. If you wanted to see them.”

Derek also notes that Stiles rarely ever talked about his mom. “Yeah…. I would love to see them.” 


End file.
